


Next Saturday, My Place

by Ghost_Writing



Series: Overwatch One Shots and Drabbles [10]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - BDSM, Alternate Universe - Body Art and Kink, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Alternate Universe - Tattoos, BDSM, Blackwatch Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, Bottom Hanzo Shimada, Bottom Jesse McCree, Cock Piercing, Consensual Kink, Genital Piercing, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Jesse McCree & Genji Shimada Are Best Friends, Light BDSM, M/M, Master/Kitten, Piercings, Platonic BDSM, Porn, Porn With Mild Plot, Porn With Plot, Sex Club, Slow Build, Smut, Switch Hanzo Shimada, Switch Jesse McCree, Tattoos, Top Hanzo Shimada, Top Jesse McCree, Tramp Stamps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:28:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24750862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghost_Writing/pseuds/Ghost_Writing
Summary: Jesse works in the Blackwatch Body Art shop. Today, he's got a new client that Roadhog referred to him for a new piercing. A gold Guiche curved barbell.Little does he know, this isn't the first time he's met him.Alternative title isGuiche Bitch
Relationships: Elizabeth Caledonia Ashe/B.O.B., Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada
Series: Overwatch One Shots and Drabbles [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1732453
Kudos: 63





	Next Saturday, My Place

**Author's Note:**

> Came to me while I was fixing my guitar. Dropped it on the pavement.
> 
> This is gonna be a running series with multiple ships. Many questions will arise, such as; where's Jack and the rest of Overwatch? What does Talon do? Is this seriously a kink fic au? 
> 
> All of these are valid and will be answered with time! But not in this fic. Enjoy the smut children!

Jesse’s head was pounding as he nodded his head at the receptionist sitting behind the front desk. He’d been out last night at a club downtown that catered to his… let’s say needs. He was thankful for the dim lighting provided by the black lights as he walked to the breakroom in his place of work; _Blackwatch Body Art_.

The small shop is shoved in between a coffee shop and a meditation class and isn’t a place that normally caught your eye from the street. However, Blackwatch’s clientele and employees were some of the most memorable characters. 

As he made his way to the back, hanging his felt cowboy hat on the hat hooks in the employee breakroom, he passed by a man who’s professional name is Roadhog. Most of the artists, as they called themselves, had pseudo names so they didn’t have to give out personal ones. Made it much less awkward when someone was in front of you in stirrups for whatever bodywork they wanted.

Roadhog’s line of work varied from Jesse’s own. The large man was riddled in tattoo’s, his larges piece being of a pig head and an engine on his stomach. Rumour has it he did them all himself, but the man never confirmed, nor denied this fact. Roadhog was one of the shop's tattoo artists. He had many customers who sought him out thanks to his unique style. 

In fact, he was the one who put in the good word, as you’d say, to one of his clients about Jesse. Which lead to Jesse coming in at the rather, early hour of the morning. 

You see, Jesse is a piercer. One of the best in business in their city, possibly the whole damn state if he was sharp enough to notice. He just saw himself as a damn good piercer and that was enough for him. 

He reached his station, a small room that held a reclining black leather chair with parting legs so he could get access to more sensitive areas if the customer was requesting the area to be pierced. The room had a few sterile metal cabinets where he kept his equipment, as well as one of those steel trays they use in surgery rooms. Or at least the medical drama’s that his mom used to watch, he didn’t really know for sure. There were also a few books in the room, as well as artworks and posters, mostly of old western scenes, hanging on the walls.

Jesse was in the middle of setting up what the customer had requested, a curved gold barbell on his taint, called a Guiche piercing. Jesse wouldn’t lie to himself, genital piercings are some of his favourites to do on customers because most of the time the characters getting them had interesting stories. He always managed to get interesting customers on the account of his boss being a-

“Jesse! You’re in early!” a dark voice joked behind him.

He didn’t even have to turn around to know who it was. His boss Gabriel Reyes leant against his doorframe, arms crossed over his muscular chest and his usual two-sizes-to-small black t-shirt stretched across his chest with leather skinny jeans wrapped tightly around his legs. 

“Wouldn’t have agreed if Roadhog didn’t say the customer was hot,” Jesse grumbled, getting out the serialization equipment needed. 

Gabriel clicked his tongue in an unimpressed tone.  
“You can’t always favour customers over your preferences.”

Jesse snorted at this, shooting Gabriel a look.  
“Says the man who installed a glory hole to attract _his_ type.”

“Like you don’t use it,” Gabriel scoffs, straightening up to leave Jesse alone.

“Mhm,” Jesse merely mumbles as Gabriel walks off. 

He busies himself with prepping the area and straightening out his outfit; a simple worn red tank top that says “save a horse, ride a cowboy”, and jeans starting to get a few holes in them. He’s busy fixing his hair in the mirror when the front desk worker, who goes by the pseudo name Sombra, buzzes him down to the front lobby.

Jesse saunters his way down, making sure to poke his head into a few rooms to see who’s in the shop today. Gabriel’s already busied himself with working on a tattoo for his appointment, and Genji, the shop’s cybernetics tech (as he called himself) was installing a new modification on a client. However, Roadhog was busy setting himself up after a client for his next appointment. 

Genji was a skinny little dream, Jesse would be lying if he hadn’t once wanted to take him back home. However, Genji seemed to have a thing for the doctor that he referred most of his clients too, as well as possibly the meditation guru next door. Jesse could never tell. However, the man was damn fine at his job and any cybernetics he’d do were wonders. He even designed Jesse’s arm when he lost it in a motorcycle wreck a few years back. 

In the lobby, two clients were waiting, which was the normal morning amount. At least, as far as Jesse knew. He mostly worked in the afternoons and nights. 

A very skinny, blond-haired man sat hunched over, working on something on his phone in one of the plush waiting chairs. He was missing his right arm and leg and Jesse privately wondered if he was here to see Genji. However, the large, explosively colourful, unfinished tattoo on his stump suggested otherwise. Maybe he was Roadhogs next client?

The other person in the waiting room was also a man. However, he was very different from the twink in the chair. He sat with a very straight back and an air of dignity in one of the other waiting chairs. His long black hair was held back in a man-bun with the side’s shaven off, leaving a stripe in front hanging in front of his face. He had a white button-up on with the sleeve’s rolled up to his forearms and a deep blue vest.

He almost looked professional, if it hadn’t been for the tight, black-leather pants clinging to muscular legs and a gold chain hanging from his belt to front pocket. Jesse could spot no piercings, but there was a large, gorgeous, blue dragon up his left arm that was most definitely Roadhog’s work. He could tell from the vibrant colours that just _worked_.

He froze for a moment, this man looked familiar… a little too familiar. Shaking his head-and nerves off-he strode up to in front of the man, hands on his hips.  
“So, ‘you my demanding client?” he teased, looking down his nose at the man below him. 

The man blinked and shook his head ever so slightly, maintaining the air of dignity as he looked up at Jesse through long lashes. Jesse struggled to keep his pants loose from the sultry look. 

“You seem to be willing to endorse my demands,” he stated plainly, his voice sounding like heaven on Earth with a thick Japanese accent.

Jesse was going to wring Mako’s neck later. 

Jesse rolled his eyes, the brattiness rolling off this man in droves.  
“Only because you asked me so politely. Name’s Jesse,” he says, offering out his hand. 

The man stands, slightly shorter than he is by a few inches, and shakes his hand firmly. Jesse can feel soft skin, that feels like the finest silk, rub against his calloused hands. He gulps, his mind wondering just how much of this man is this soft.

“Hanzo,” the man replies, finally letting go of Jesse’s hand. Still looking up at Jesse through his eyelashes, fluttering them ever so slightly. 

“Good, introductions are done! Now come on, I ain’t got all day,” Jesse declares suddenly, turning heel and hoping that the man will follow him before he pops an awkward boner in front of him.

The man seems to take the hint, following behind him as Jesse leads him back to his office. The journey’s short, however, in the middle of their small trek, Roadhog passes by them.

Jesse shoots him a glare as Hanzo nods in greeting. Roadhog ignores Jesse and nods back to Hanzo as he carries down the hallway to the lobby. Probably to retrieve the twink hunched over his phone. 

When the pair finally returns to Jesse’s office, Jesse closes the door for privacy, turning the sign to “appointment” on the door.

“Alright,” Jesse starts, turning around to Hanzo, “lose the pants.”

Hanzo’s sly grin curls the corners of his mouth.  
“Forward aren’t we, sir?”

Jesse blinks, the name going over his head as he focuses on the somehow still remaining brattiness of this man. He’d tamed a few brats in his time, but never in his damn office. That was for off-work hours only.

“Mate, I need to see your taint to pierce it,” he states, moving to wash his hands and put on black gloves.

Hanzo huffs, finally stripping down, losing both pants and boxers in one fluid motion that no one wearing leather pants should be able to do. He sits on the black leather chair in the middle of the room with his pants folded neatly on one of the sterile counters in close reach. 

Jesse swivels on a stool, holding the sterile wipe in his hand.  
“Gonna tell you this now, you chose the wrong day to wear tight pants,” he says before he’s even looking at Hanzo.

When his eyes finally land on the man sitting with his legs up in the footholds, spread out before him with the sultry, yet somehow dignified, look still on his face.

He has to blink a few times to make sure this is real. His pale skin is completely bare from any hair waist down and a pretty little gold Prince Albert piercing sits in the head of his half-hard dick. A small lick of a black tattoo wrapping around his hip catches Jesse’s eye fairly quickly. Does he have a fucking tramp stamp?!

“I know what I’m doing,” Hanzo states, leaning his arm on the armrest and his head in his hand as he looks down idly at Jesse between his legs.

Jesse nods, blushing heavily.  
“Just a warning, darlin’,” he slurs, wiping down Hanzo’s taint so it’s clean for the needle. 

Neither makes a sound afterwards as Jesse preps him. Hanzo watching with idle entertainment in his eyes.

Jesse trashes the cleaning wipe and reaches for the pen, marking where he needs to insert the needle. He maneuvers himself out of the way so that Hanzo can see his reflection in the full-length mirror on his door.

“Look good, sugar?” Jesse asks, his southern drawl coming out as he starts to forget to keep it unchecked. Usually, clients don’t take well to a supposed redneck putting holes in their bodies, on account of the possibility he could be drunk. He’s never been drunk on the job.

Hanzo nods face still resting in his open palm. He doesn’t say anything as Jesse reaches for the needle to pierce his skin. 

With an open hand, Jesse stretches Hanzo’s taint so that he can easily pierce it with precision. He maneuvers the skin, marvelling privately at how soft it is as he tries his hardest to ignore that Hanzo’s sitting at half-mast just above his hand.

“Deep breath for me, darlin’,” Jesse instructs as he presses the needle into Hanzo’s skin.

There’s a sharp inhale from above him as he slides the needle into the soft flesh. He sneaks a glance as he reaches for the golden barbell on the table. 

Hanzo’s biting his fist, eyes rolled back and fluttering with his dick starting to leak a few droplets of precum. 

Suddenly, the realization hits him as he’s sliding the barbell into the fresh hole. 

He _has_ seen this man before. Last night to be exact. 

The memory of a slightly drunk, Japanese man grinding down on him and begging him to take him to the back room as his best friend, Genji, groans and facepalms. Genji was there because he promised to introduce Jesse to his brother. The man now spread so openly on his chair in front of him with a brand-new Guiche piercing sitting inside him. 

Genji had said his brother was into the same things as the rest of the shop, frequenting the Deadlock club downtown often. The aforementioned kink club run by Ashe and her slave Bob, an old friend of Jesse. The two of them had been friends as kids, they even attempted to have something at one point, which lead to Ashe discovering that she was in fact, aromantic. Jesse didn’t have a problem with it, and would often visit her when he came to the establishment at night. 

Now, Jesse had a policy about banging new people while drunk. He didn’t do it. So the evening had gone nowhere. However, that didn’t make this any less awkward.

He didn’t know whether to pale or jump him. 

Hanzo was done as Jesse went into autopilot to clean him, instructing him with proper care methods as his brain tried to process the information. 

“... and that’s pretty much it. Do abstain from tearing it, but if you do, Angela, the doctor I listed, is excellent at repairs. Er, though I supposed Genji would’ve,” Jesse paused to cough, “told you about that. I also put my personal cell down in case you have any other questions,” he said, trying to play it smooth as he handed Hanzo the care instructions.

Hanzo’s eyebrows shot up, a sly grin crossing his face.

“Ah, so you do remember?” he remarks, still half-naked and hard. 

“I’m slow, okay?” Jesse defends himself, fishing for a solid excuse.  
“The offer I made last night still stands. You’re not too bad on the eyes,” Hanzo says idly, leaning back against the leather chair with the legs rests down but still spread apart.

“And what might that be?” Jesse presses, cocking his head to the side as the same expression from before returned to Hanzo’s face.

“You could take care of my problem,” Hanzo urges, placing his hand on the back of Jesse’s head and lacing his fingers through his hair. Gently nudging Jesse closer.

A cocky smirk crosses Jesse’s lips as he looks up at Hanzo, leaning closer.  
“You switch fast,” he remarks before he can even stop himself.

“Mm, so do you,” Hanzo observes, giving Jesse’s hair a testing tug.

He lets out a strangled moan and flushes in embarrassment. 

“Oh, don’t be embarrassed kitten. Come on, put those lips to good use,” Hanzo orders, brushing his free thumb over the bottom of Jesse’s lip as he drags him forwards.

Jesse bites his bottom lip at the pet name, leaning forward with the guidance and letting the head of Hanzo’s dick rest against his lips. He licks it soft, testing the new part before taking the head in his mouth and swirling his tongue around the tip, precum lacing his taste-buds.

Hanzo lets out a low grown, pushing Jesse’s head down a little with his hand. Jesse’s happy to oblige, bobbing up and down until Hanzo’s tip is hitting the back of his throat. He drags his tongue up the underside when he pulls off before going all the way back down as much as he can.

Hanzo’s hand on his head and laced through his hair tells him to go farther. He swallows, trying not to gag as the head of his cock slips down his throat. Hanzo starts to pump him down a little, he relaxes to the feeling. He’d smile if his lips weren’t stretched around him right now. 

Tears prick the corners of Jesse’s eyes. They aren’t alarming to either, but a gentle brush of Jesse’s hand’s to Hanzo’s balls gives him enough to continue. Jesse rolls the balls in his hand expertly, watching as the man above him comes undone, gasping and groaning softly.

He gets no warning before Hanzo finishes down his throat, his nose flush with Hanzo’s stomach. Jesse tries as best he can to swallow it all, but a bit still dribbles down his chin.

“Fuck,” Jesse mumbles, pulling off and wiping off his mouth.

“I’m definitely gonna use that number,” Hanzo states, his hand stroking Jesse’s jaw softly as he gets up to grab his pants off the counter.

“Please do,” Jesse replies, trying not to sound too desperate as he stands to tidy himself off a little.

The semi in his jeans is brought to his attention as he stands and he’s about to stand when a very loud, very lewd moan cuts through the entire shop.

Hanzo, now with pants, turns and exchanges a look with Jesse. The two of them step into the hall in search of the noise. However, all doors are locked and Jesse knows better than to pry into a customer.

He’ll get the story later.

“I got another appointment in a few minutes,” Jesse groans, giving up the mini-search.

“I have to meet someone at _Go to Sleep_ in thirty minutes,” Hanzo replies, checking his watch.

“Ah, good place. Tell Ana and Rein’ I say hi,” Jesse nods, his usual confident demeanour returning.

“Will do,” Hanzo nods, pocketing his phone and walking off down the hall.

“Text me later!” Jesse calls after him, arousing a chuckle from the man.

“Already did, Cowboy!” he calls back before slipping out of the hallway to pay at the front desk.

Jesse reaches down to check his phone to see a text from an unknown number. He opens it and is greeted by a photo of twin dragons wrapped together above a perfectly sculpted ass that’s just barely revealed by the hand pulling down the band of the blue boxer-briefs. 

The message below reads _next Saturday, my place. Bring something_.

**Author's Note:**

> Tbh if I had a dick (a far too recurring dream thanks to dysphoria) I'd get a fucking Guiche piercing. 
> 
> I WAS WRITING THIS AND AN OLD SONG I USED TO LOVE CAME ON!!!!!! It's Something I Need by OneRepublic. I nearly fucking cried.
> 
> Any guesses as too who moaned?
> 
> **Links/References**  
>  the playlist (not my own but great McHanzo) https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4YQgBhcaVXrT16C1QtWX5A  
> Piercing reference ; https://hips.hearstapps.com/hmg-prod.s3.amazonaws.com/images/male-genital-piercings-1498230717.jpg?crop=1xw:1xh;center,top&resize=480:*  
> Jesse's shirt ; https://i.etsystatic.com/14415787/c/2250/1786/0/538/il/87de5c/1499869371/il_340x270.1499869371_3m1r.jpg
> 
> Thanks for reading the story! Remember to do your own research before engaging in BDSM, kink, getting tattoo's/piercings, and anything else in this fic. Most importantly, Consent is KEY!!!! 
> 
> Comment, kudos, and subscribe to the series because I may be planning on making more for this universe!


End file.
